


Hitchhiker's Guide to Time Travel

by xammyyyalex



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Doctor Who References, Multi, One Shot, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22035304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xammyyyalex/pseuds/xammyyyalex
Summary: One-Shot: Clara's diner/TARDIS is The Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
Kudos: 4





	Hitchhiker's Guide to Time Travel

**Author's Note:**

> This was a summer homework assignment I wrote a couple of years ago which I initially posted on Wattpad. I hope you like it :)

_Far out in the well-worn star paths of the more fashionable end of the universe, there resides a restaurant. Or, more specifically, a diner._

_The owner of this diner is an Earthwoman - or at least she appears to be. Her short stature, brown hair, and welcoming smile makes her appear ordinary, but there is something in the way she carries herself. A natural confidence, and when she turned to look at you, you would notice the unusual sparkle in her warm brown eyes. As if she knows something that you don't. All this and the fact that she owned a diner at the End of the Universe points to the fact that she was not exactly normal. That she had a secret or two worth sharing._

_She called herself Clara._

_One Thursday afternoon, (though she had been in space for far too long to actually recognize what day it was), she was chatting to one of her regular customers - who appeared to be a human male but in reality was a Zygon, a shape-shifting alien who liked to go by the name of Bob, when he started talking about a curious little news story._

_"Yes, yes, I c-completely agree, Damogran is qu-quite an inconveniently arranged p-planet." While fluent in the language of English, Bob had trouble picking up the speech patterns. Currently, they were having a discussion about Damogran, a planet Clara had visited much, much earlier in her days in space._

_"And it's really quite hot there too, not to mention remote," Clara added, as she poured more tea into Bob's cup._

_"Yes, t-that too." Bob paused for a moment to drink from the fresh cup of tea before continuing. "And have y-you heard of the new scandal Zaphod B-Beebleb-b-brox caused on that planet?" Clara rolled her eyes at the mention of the President of the Galaxy._

_"No, I haven't, what did he do now?"_

_"Oh you w-won't believe it, it's ridic-ridiculous. He st-stole a spaceship, a real special one b-by the looks of it, c-called the Heart of Gold." As Bob paused to take another sip, Clara momentarily froze. She already knew this story, though in a different time and place, and someone other than Zaphod. "And he t-took a c-companion with him, a woman h-he picked up from Earth months ago." Now, Clara laughed at the sheer irony. "Well I kn-know it's ridiculous but I don't think it's w-worth laughing about." Bob said, clearly puzzled. She laughed for a couple of moments before shaking her head._

_"No, no, I'm not laughing because it's ridiculous, it's just weird. That story..." the smile lingers on Clara's face. "It just reminds me of my own."_ _Bob tilts his head, confused._

_"Your own? You can't possibly mean-"_

_"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."_

_"Sorry, but you? C-C-C-Clara Oswald?! The sweet y-young Earthwoman? S-Stealing a spaceship and then running away?"_

_"How do you think a woman from Earth got to be on the opposite end of the universe?" Bob chuckles._

_Clara's smile fades as she stares off into the distance, and it becomes clear that her mind is somewhere else._ _"I remember like it was yesterday....there was a boy....named Arthur."_

_"Where is he now?" This snaps Clara back to reality, and she looks at Bob, eyes piercing straight through him._

_"I don't know...it's...it's a very long story. " She spoke carefully, studying Bob's reaction._

_"I won't tell, and anyways," Bob swivels around looking at the sparsely occupied diner. At the far corner booth, there was a droid couple, quietly chattering with each other, and further down the counter which Bob was sitting at, there was a single Tritovore (an alien whose head resembled a giant fly), engrossed in the three plates of food he had ordered. "We have time." Clara smirked at him._

_"Fine," she said giving in. She slipped out from behind the counter and walked up to the door, switching off the neon 'We're Open!' sign outside the diner. "But don't say I didn't warn you."_

He was four years old when his parents decided to leave him. Decided to chase after aliens across the globe. See, Lilian and Rufus Dent had never been quite right after the accident - a car crash a couple of months before Arthur was born, and really it was a miracle that he hadn't died in the womb that day. But as for his parents, they began to tell crazy stories of an alien who came down from the stars and rescued them from the wreckage. Upon investigation of the crash site, there was no evidence found indicating that someone else had been there. Doctors wrote them off, claiming that they merely hallucinated. His parents, however, even years after the accident, never let go of the alien they saw that day. For a while, they tried to bring Arthur on their wild goose chases across the globe, chasing aliens that were never there. Eventually, though, the struggle of caring for a baby and chasing aliens caught up to them, and when faced with the choice of their son or their search, they chose their search. So they left him in the care of an uncle who Arthur barely knew. And he never saw his parents ever again.

This was why at twelve years old, Arthur was already learning his way around the house, even cooking for him and his Uncle Jack, and walked around with an expression that was entirely too worried for a boy his age. I would know. When I met him he had that exact same worry-filled expression on his face.

Oh, and as for how we met?

We ran into each other. If your definition of "ran" is crashed, and your definition of "into each other" is "into your house." See in those days I was new to driving my spaceship. I had always been a passenger before because the last ship I had tried to man didn't like me very much. When I first took the wheel, I aimed for home but missed it entirely. Instead, I ended up plowing straight into the garage of Arthur's house.

It was just a little past 10 PM on a Wednesday evening when I crashed straight into Jack's Toyota RAV4. My ship, while mostly unharmed, was in disarray after the crash landing, and smoke was rising off of the main console which was a cause for concern. I struggled to get up, legs a little wobbly as I waved the smoke from my face. I shuffled quickly to the entrance of the ship and threw the doors open. I made my way out, wheezing heavily and stumbled to my knees only to find myself face to face with a young boy with a worried expression.

"Oh hello," I managed to make out as I got up to my feet, "I didn't see you there." The young boy gapes at me, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. His mop of curly brown hair was disheveled and his flannel pajama top was buttoned haphazardly - I had probably crash-landed into his house just as he had been getting ready for bed.

"Wh-who are you? How did you...what is that?" He managed to make out, pointing at my ship, which, at this time was in the form of a slim white cylinder. I chuckled a little and I brushed the soot off my dress. (Not very convenient clothing, I know.)

"Well, I'm Clara. Clara Oswald. And that," I say, pointing back to my ship which lay with the wreckage of the blue Toyota, "is my spaceship. And you are?" I took a step towards him, hand outstretched, and the boy looks me up and down nervously. I can almost see the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out if he could trust the strange woman who crashed into his garage. He steps forward and for a moment, he hesitates, analyzing my outstretched hand before he slowly reached out and shook it.

"I'm Arthur. Arthur Dent." I smiled, and I wondered what his parents might say about the situation he was now in. After all, not many would be keen on their son shaking hands with a stranger who just crashed into their garage. Then suddenly I realized that I was absolutely right. No parent in their right mind would want their son to be talking to me right now. I took a side-step, looking past Arthur into the hallway where he came from, expecting someone to be rushing in here now and pushing him behind them and away from me. But nobody came. I looked down at Arthur, who was still looking at me with a mix of wonder, worry, and apprehensiveness.

"Arthur, where are your parents?" Instantly the expression drops from his face and turns blank, and I know I shouldn't have asked that question.

"They're gone. My uncle is supposed to be taking care of me right now, but he's away on business." He shifts his weight, uncomfortable. With the look in his eyes, you can tell he is guarded. Unsure. And a child at his age shouldn't have to be guarded.

"Have you got any fries?" I ask, changing the subject. The odd question clearly catches him off guard.

"Fries?"

"Yes, you know, the crisp potato things that you dip in ketchup?"

"I know what french fries are."

"Well have you got any?"

"But why?"

"Well I don't know if you can tell but I've had one hell of a day," I say, motioning to the wreckage behind me, "And really all I really want right now are some fries." Arthur hesitates before sighing.

"Well, yeah..." he starts shuffling into the hallway behind him, and I follow behind him carefully. The hallway has a couple photos framed on the wall, none of them picturing Arthur, but instead, a man who I assumed to be his uncle. The hall opened up to a bare looking kitchen, which at its center had a wooden table with two lone seats, which appeared brand new and untouched. Arthur was now rummaging through his freezer, and as he pulls out a box of frozen fries, he asks "Do you do this often?"

I chuckle. "Do what?" Arthur shrugs. He's spreading the fries onto a tray now, and my stomach rumbles.

"I dunno. Crash into people's garages and ask for food?" He places the tray in the oven and sets a timer before sitting down across from me.

"No. What makes you say that?"

"Well, it's just you're acting as if all of this is normal."

"Am I?" He nods, and I think for a moment before responding. "Well, I guess this falls on the less exciting end of my usual adventures. But you, you're acting quite normal as well."

"Well, nothing really surprises me."

"Oh? Not even the strange woman who crashed into your house and asked for french fries?" Arthur smiles, the first smile I've seen from him, and it makes him look more like the boy he really is. Then his expression turns hesitant.

"Ar-are you from space?" he asks. It is my turn to smile.

"You could say that." Arthur's expression turns into one of quiet awe. "But I am human."

"Y-You are?" For a moment he is confused. "Your spaceship, it... it doesn't look like anything from here."

"Well, you're right about that." I pause, then ask "Can I have some water please?"

"Oh-oh right of course." Arthur scrambles to his feet as he goes to grab a glass of water. I take this moment to step out to the garage and exit through the giant hole which the ship had created. The night air was cool, and the wind blew softly through the surrounding trees. There were no noticeable landmarks in the area, just one lone road further off. I looked up to the stars above. Based on the stars visible and the warm weather, I could tell that we were somewhere in England. I turn back to the house and study it - brick and square, with a sizable garden. And it was big - too big for only a boy and his uncle. A gnawing feeling grows in my stomach, and I can't tell if it's hunger or something else - like suspicion. Before I could explore further, Arthur breaks my train of thought. "Um, Ms.Clara, I have your water." He offers me the glass and I gladly take it.

"Thanks." I gulp down the glass. "And Arthur, it's just Clara." Arthur smiles sheepishly and nods. We make our way back to the kitchen, where the fries are waiting on a platter. "Oh, they're finished!" I rush to the table and immediately begin to wolf them down. They were perfect and crispy and just what I needed.

"So...what did you mean when you said I was right?"

"Hm?" I mumble, preoccupied with the fries. "Oh, that? I meant what I said, you were right." Little Arthur's eyebrows are furrowed and it is almost comical.

"If your spaceship...if it's not from Earth...how did you-"

"I stole it."

"Stole it?" His eyes widen. "You stole a spaceship from a real alien!" I nod at him, as I lick the crumbs off my fingers. "A real alien spaceship...how did you do it?" For a moment I freeze. Memories of the old man in his blue box flash through my head, but I force them down as soon as they begin.

"Enough questions!" I point a fry at him. "My turn. Where are we?" Arthur is visibly disappointed by my decision to turn the tables on his mini interrogation.

"Leadsworth."

"Ah, Leadsworth." I had really missed by a long shot, I was aiming for Blackpool. "And how old are you, Arthur?"

"I'm twelve."

"Twelve! I loved being twelve!" I had been spot on in guessing his age earlier. "But twelve is too young to be left home alone. Especially in a big empty house like this." Arthur shrugs.

There is something sad in the way that he does this. Resigned. I am about to speak when a loud sound interrupts us and I jump to my feet. "What was that?" Arthur asks, but I am already making my way back to the garage.

"That, Arthur, was my ship!" There was no longer any smoke coming out of the white cylinder which was a good sign. "It's finally gotten to cool itself down, which is why she sounded out."

"She?" Arthur asks, but I am no longer paying him any mind. I hiked up my dress a little as I climb in - the ship was on its side so I had to climb into it rather awkwardly. Once inside, I am immediately reoriented to the gravity of the ship. The console at the center of the white room groans a little, and I smile. I fiddle with a few of the settings, testing them out, and my ship sounds out in return. "Clara?" I look out the doorway to see Arthur peering inside, shocked. "Woah!" The whole scene is comical because of his orientation, with the ship on its side and Arthur peering down at me from the outside, all I could see was his head, as if his neck was sprouting from the ground.

"Arthur, just stand back a little alright? I'm going to park her right outside the house."

"You're going to wha-" But I am already closing the doors in his face.

I shift my attention back to the console. As I pushed a few buttons, the ship made its familiar wheezing sound as it disappeared then reappeared a few feet away from the garage, upright this time. I open the doors once more only to find Arthur gaping at me from inside the garage.

"Y-You were here and n-now...now you're over there." He approaches the ship slowly, and peers inside. His eyes get even wider. Arthur steps inside of my ship and lets his eyes take in the giant console and the high ceilings. "B-but..." He goes around the entire console once before stepping back outside and looking at the exterior of my ship. "I-It's...it's bigger on the inside!" I laugh at the words.

"Alien ship, remember?" He nods, gaping. "Anyways, Arthur, I've been in your hair long enough."

"What do you mean? You only just got here." His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at me, and I smile knowingly.

"And I've already totally destroyed your garage, and not to mention your uncle's car. It's time for me to leave."

"But you're going to leave everything a mess!" He cries out, but there's something else in his voice - something more than just the distress of a destroyed garage.

"I know and I'm sorry that I can't do anything about it, but I really have to go." I'm sure that if I stay any longer, I will significantly alter this boy's timeline. I start gently pushing Arthur out of the ship, but he whirls back around to face me, eyes full of desperation which I can see clearly now.

"No, wait! Please!" He looks as if he is on the verge of tears and I pause, softening at his expression. "Take me with you." A jolt runs through me, and Arthur probably noticed the startled look in my eyes, because he starts speaking again. "I'm miserable here, and I'm alone, and...my parents abandoned me chasing after aliens." He pauses, struggling to speak for a few moments. "That's why I've been with my uncle for eight years, and I don't know... I just think that. My parents, you know, they went on a wild goose-chase looking for aliens. And it's strange and I thought they were crazy but now you've come crashing into my life... a-and I can't not go with you."

My heart twists for this boy. This poor, little twelve-year-old boy. He was so young, yet so earnest, and had already experienced so much pain. I crouch down to his eye-level, and I put my hands on his arms, gripping him gently. The desperation and hope is so clearly written in his expression. I glance behind him, through the open doors of my ship and to the house in which he lived, the one that was oh-so-big for a little boy left alone in the night. I finally feel my defenses crumbling, and I look back at him.

"All right," I say, giving in.

"Really!" Arthur's face lights up and I smile, nodding at him. "Okay, I'm going to pack!" He runs off excitedly to the house. He returns a couple minutes later, grinning, lugging a small suitcase behind him. His excitement is contagious and I can't help but be in a good mood.

"Ready?"

"Ready!" The doors of the ship swing shut behind him.

"Well then. Let's go, Arthur."

_Clara is right in the midst of her story when her door swings open with a chime, and startled, both Bob and Clara look up at the door. Standing there are two men - human, they seemed, which meant there were three humans in this diner, on the completely opposite end of the universe from the planet which they called home. One was a ginger of average height, with an odd air around him. He was smiling broadly. The other was a tall, dark-haired man of about thirty. He appeared to be wearing pajamas and a bathrobe. In contrast to his companion, he looked slightly uneasy as he studied the diner and its occupants suspiciously._

_"Sorry, but we're closed," Clara says, eying them carefully. Her guard is up, instantly cautious of the two men. The ginger nods._

_"I know, I know, but we saw the lights on in the diner and my friend here," He points to the robed man next to him who smiles sheepishly. "Would like some good old English tea. And I told him that you were the only place in the universe that sold tea, besides Earth at least, and that's not exactly an option right now." His statement made Clara flinch, but she nodded and grabbed two clean cups from behind the counter and placed them on the table._

_The two men sat next to Bob, the robed one right in the middle. The ginger chattered to him as Clara poured the tea into the two cups, then refilled Bob's own which had long been drained._

_"So, are you both human?" the robed man asked, speaking for the first time. She looks up at him. He is looking at her and Bob earnestly, with an expression that is strangely familiar to Clara._

_"Oh n-no, I'm not, I'm, I'm a Z-Zygon, but Cl-Clara Oswald here is." Bob responds, smiling. "And you," Bob is now speaking to the ginger, "You're not human either, are you?"_

_The ginger, once again, smiles all too broadly before laughing. "No, I'm not! You have a good eye! I'm Betelgeusian." Clara and Bob both nod. That explained his odd aura and the unnerving way in which he smiled. Then there is an awkward silence, and the robed man and Bob both gulp down their tea. The ginger leaves his cup untouched, apparently not interested. "_

_You're English," the robed man finally says, this time referring to Clara alone. She smiles._

_"You are too." And the both of them laugh for a moment, at the ridiculousness of meeting another person from England, here, of all places. The furthest the both of them could ever be from home. Still, there is something that bothers Clara about this man, and the man himself had this weird itching feeling in the back of his head. He sips his tea. "Clara, huh..." Then they shift back to awkward silence, and Clara and Bob exchange a quick glance, Bob raising an eyebrow._

_"Anyways, we should go now," The ginger says, getting up from his seat. The robed man swivels around in his seat to look at him, and something in the way he furrowed his eyebrows and his initial unease convinced Clara that she knew this man - which is impossible._

_"But we only just got here!"_

_"Yes, I know, but now you've had your tea and now we have to go." He sets some money on the counter and starts walking out the door._

_"But-"_

_"Zaphod and Trillian are waiting for us!" Both Clara and Bob gasp, but for different reasons entirely. The robed man gives in, putting down his cup. He starts to follow his friend out the door, sighing._

_"Z-Z-Zaphod?" Bob says, incredulously, while Clara scrambles out from behind the counter, after the robed man. "_

_Wait!" He pauses for a moment and turns back to her. "What...What's your name?" He hesitates for a moment, looking at her carefully._

_"Arthur. Arthur Dent."_

_"Arthur!" His ginger friend calls from outside. He rolls his eyes. "_

_I'm sorry, but I really have to go now. Thank you for the tea, Clara Oswald." And then, with the chime of the door, he was gone. Clara was rooted to the spot she stood on, in shock. She watched the golden spaceship which Arthur had climbed onto lift off and fly out of view._

_"Did h-he say his n-name was A-Arthur Dent?" Bob says, snapping Clara out of her stupor. She turned back around to face him and walked slowly back to the counter._

_"Yes...yes he did." Bob gasps._

_"B-B-But how c-come he didn't rem-remember y-you? Didn't you l-leave off your st-story with you and - you and A-Arthur about to t-t-travel in space together? There's n-no way he would f-f-forget the n-name of the woman who b-brought him." Clara smiles sadly. "_

_Yes we did travel together in space for a while. And it was good, it was really good. We had a lot of fun."_

_"Then wh-why doesn't he re-remember?" "_

_Because I. I got into some trouble, and I couldn't...I couldn't keep him safe with me anymore." Clara is staring out the window now, and she knows she is speaking but her mind is no longer there anymore. Her mind is back on Earth, back to the night it happened. "I had to return him home, and I...I had to make sure he wouldn't remember or else I wouldn't be able to keep him safe. I had to."_

"Wait what are we doing back here, Clara?" Little Arthur asks. He is grinning toothily at me, and my stomach twists. We are back in Leadsworth, the night that I had taken Arthur along with me.

"I just wanted to fix some things," I said. We walk to the gaping hole that my ship had left, back to the wreckage of the car.

"Wait, is this the night that we met? It is isn't it!" I had explained to Arthur a couple weeks after we had been traveling that not only could we travel through space, but we could travel through time as well. I had landed the ship a couple moments from after the past Clara and Arthur had lifted off. "I haven't been here in so long," he mumbles, looking at the wreckage of the car and out to the hallway. My stomach twists once again with the knowledge of what I have to do. Arthur remains clueless and blissful.

I pull out the sonic repairer which I had picked up from a planet somewhere along my travels with Arthur. I point it at the wreckage of the car, press the button and watch as the car slowly repairs itself, and in a few seconds, it's back to a shiny blue Toyota.

"Is that the sonic we got off of Anathema?" Arthur asks, and I nod and turn to point the sonic at the gaping hole we had come through. Within seconds it was repaired as well. I walk slowly to the kitchen, where the platter of fries still remained. Arthur happily eats the few remaining as I return everything out of place. The tray, the half-empty box of frozen fries, and when Arthur is done eating, the plate too. He looks at me puzzled. "Why are you..." Realization dawns on his face."You aren't...you can't." Arthur had grown pretty quick over the months we traveled together, and he knew exactly what I was going to do.

"I have to." I say softly, and he shakes his head, expression terrified as he backs away from me.

"You can't do that - you can't!"

"I can't keep you safe with me anymore Arthur, you have to go back." I walk towards him and he backs away even further.

"No! It's not any better here, you know I was miserable!" And it feels like I'm being stabbed in the chest because I don't really want to do this, but I have to, I have to do it, for him. For Arthur. He is crying now and he is backed up to the wall and I hold his hands, so tiny compared to mine. "Please," he begs, looking up at me with his big brown eyes, but I am already pulling the memory wiper from my pocket. "Clara...don't do this." By now, I am crying too, and I hug Arthur tightly, who is whimpering in my arms. My hand which is holding the wiper is trembling as I point it to his back.

"I'm sorry." And I squeeze my eyes shut and press the button. Arthur gasps then goes limp in my arms as he falls unconscious. I'm there in the kitchen, crumpled on the ground and crying with Arthur in my arms for around ten minutes before I get myself back together, and I pick him up carefully. I walk further into his house and up the stairs, where I find his bedroom. It's sparsely decorated, with peeling wallpaper, and the sheets of his bed are tossed on the ground. Gently, I place him into his bed and pull the sheets over him. He turns over to his side, and I can see a worried expression on his face, even as he sleeps. I hadn't seen him wear that expression since the first day I met him, and it made my heart break to see him wearing it once more. I stroke his head, before quietly leaving his room.

I make my way back to the kitchen, cleaning up more before walking out of his house and into the cool night air. I look up at the stars above and another tear finds itself dripping down my cheek. I sigh and I wipe it away.

"This is for the best..." I say aloud. Perhaps if I said it, I would believe it. But it didn't change the sadness I felt. I pulled out Arthur's suitcase, which I had hidden from him behind a bush by the door, and placed it on the stoop. Then without looking back, I walked to my ship, in the form of a phone booth now, and flew away.

_Clara is all choked up, and Bob watched her with a kind expression on his face._

_"C-Clara..." he says softly, outstretching his hand as if to comfort her. But she turns away from him, hands covering her face. "_

_I'm sorry, but I can't...I can't do this right now...alright out, out, everyone out!" The Tritovore on the other end of the counter makes a reluctant noise. He's not even halfway done with his first plate. The droid couple stares at her, unmoving, reluctant. Bob is still rooted in his spot, still trying to gently talk to her. "_

_Clara d-don't d-"_

_"I said out!" she shouted. The droids, disgruntled, stand up and the Tritovore grabs his plate, and the three of them walk out the door, slamming the door shut behind them. Bob stands up reluctantly. He opens his mouth, about to say something, before deciding against it. Slowly he walks out the door._

_As soon as the door chimes shut, there is a loud wheezing noise. Outside the diner, Bob and the other aliens look at the diner in awe as it slowly dematerializes._

_And within a few seconds, the diner, along with Clara Oswald is gone._


End file.
